intorthe heart of Walter Master
son. All day the witnesses testi
fied that "at no time was Ed Bar
rett's life in danger "
And Ed Barrett sat there lis
tening to them, with legs crossed,
hands folded in his lap, shoulder,
head and eyes held steady and ut
terly immovable. The only words
he spoke all day were: "I don't
want to testify."
Short and stocky of build,
heavy of jaw, is the mankiller.
His head is broad at the base. His
under lip and his eyes are the two
features of his face that hold the
attention. The under lip doesn't
get anywhere; it puzzles; so do
They are peculiar eyes, those of
Barrett. They are small, with
shadows in them, and the lids
drawn down over them as though
to say: "You don't know me, and
you don't know my game; I do
things suddenly; I do the bold
and surprising thing; I have
tricks and twists you don't know
So Ed Barrett sat yesterday, as
the witnesses pointed him out as
the murderer of Walter Master
Brothers of the man he mur
dered spoke and accused him.
The dead man's widow, Elizabeth
Masterson, faced him. A three-year-old
girl clung to her shoul
ders, and laughed at the coroner,
and chuckled at the jury, and
smiled on the man who had made
her fatherless. The Masterson
boys, Ed and Pete, broke down
and could hardly tell their story.
The blood-drenched clothes of!
Walter Masterson were brous
in. Jia tsarrett s nanaicerchii
and necktie, with the dried blooc
drops on them, were laid on the
table. lhe knite tnat went
through Walter Masterson's
heart was laid beside them.
And Ed Barrett sat looking on
indifferently, his whole attitude
that of when he first was arrested
for the murder and turned to the
police and said :
"I should worry and grow
What was passing through the
gunman's mind? What were his
thoughts? Were they anything"
"Twice I have killed men since
a deputy policeman's star was
fastened on my breast last year.
And twice I have been held to the
grand jury for murder. And al
ways the high influence of the
great newspapers of Chicago has
been thrown around me and has
set me free.
"When the newspapers were in
trouble I helped them. When
men were hard to get I helped
them. A strike was on, and hell
was breaking on every side. I was
a friend of the great newspapers
then. The unions said they would
wreck Hearst. I helped Hearst.
The men I helped have power.
Two times I have killed since.
And two times the big, powerful
men I helped have set me free. I
will not let this trouble me. I have
friends in high places. I will yet
go free for this."
Were these the thoughts of Ed
Barrett yesterday, as he sat feel
ing the evidence coiling around
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